


Intoxicated We May Be

by tryslora



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Community: fullmoon_ficlet, Drunken Confessions, Drunkenness, Multi, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-03
Updated: 2015-05-03
Packaged: 2018-03-28 18:49:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3865789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tryslora/pseuds/tryslora
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles being drunk isn’t all that odd, but the faeries leave Derek stumbling and speaking truth. Scott might be a bit surprised what he gets to hear.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Intoxicated We May Be

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally written for Prompt #117 - Intoxicated at fullmoon_ficlet. It's just something little and silly. As always, I do not own the world nor characters of Teen Wolf, I just like to play with them.

“Sh!” Derek grabs Scott’s hand, grip tight as he whispers, “ _Be quiet_. Melissa is _listening_.”

Scott winces at the sound of Derek’s voice, glances behind him where Stiles is supporting Derek’s other side as they stumble into the house. “My mom’s at work,” Scott says slowly. “Remember, we just talked to her? She said Stiles is fine, just a little… drunk.”

“I think I might be drunk too,” Derek admits, and his natural speaking voice is actually quieter than his whisper, not to mention less abrasive to Scott’s sensitive ears.

“Dude. You are _stumbling_. You are _so drunk_.” Stiles hits his toe on the floor and clings to Derek to stay upright. “I do not know which of us is drunker. More drunk. So very, very drunk.”

“Faeries,” Scott sighs. “I hate fucking faeries.”

“We did not fuck the faeries,” Derek says solemnly. He pulls his arms away from them both, wobbling slightly on his feet. “I have better taste than that.”

“You like them homicidal.” When Stiles nudges Derek, they both sway, and Scott wonders if he should bother catching them when they fall, or just let them end up on the floor. It’s the middle of the living room, and he’d hoped to get them into a bedroom, just for the comfort factor.

On the other hand, right here is a lot closer.

“Why don’t we all sit on the couch.” Scott grabs Derek’s shoulder, turns him before he can head to the kitchen. “In the living room, Derek.”

“Sit with me,” Derek orders, eyes flashing weakly. He frowns, makes a face and seems to try again but nothing happens. “Why can’t I wolf?”

“Wolf is not a verb.” Scott pushes him onto the couch, then goes back for Stiles.

“Wolf is a verb. You wolf. He wolfs. I do not wolf.” Stiles jabs his finger at each of them in turn before he lets Scott take his hand and follows to the couch. He flops, leaving space in the middle. “Derek’s right. Sit with us, Scott. Be our anchor, because I am _flying_.”

“I’m going to go get you both some water, because when this is over, you’re probably going to be miserable.” Scott pauses when Derek growls and Stiles whines. “ _Dudes_ ,” he says. “You are _drunk_ and I am _not_ , and I do not want to sit around while you two are weird around each other.”

He can almost hear the confusion in the way they move; when he glances back over his shoulder, they are staring at each other.

“I’m not weird,” Stiles says. “No, wait, I _am_ weird. I can own that. But I am not weird around Derek.”

Derek says, pointing at Stiles. “It’s all his fault for being too pretty.”

Which is _exactly_ what Scott meant.

“Scott’s prettier than me,” Stiles points out.

“True.”

“What?” Scott frowns. “Oh no, don’t involve me in this.”

Derek cocks his head, brow furrowed. “His jaw is crooked, but it’s cute that way. He’s like a puppy when he smiles.”

“You have sunshine caught in your bunny teeth,” Stiles tells him, nodding sagely. “Scott just glows.”

“And you are the moonshine to our wolves,” Derek reaches over to pat his hand. “Isn’t he, Scott?”

“I don’t even know what we’re talking about anymore,” Scott says, because this conversation has slipped past weird and into surreal.

Stiles pats the small space between them. “Sit down, buddy, Scotty my boy, and we will explain everything to you. You can’t see the sun shining out your ass because you don’t look at your ass. But we do.”

“Is this a truth serum or are you intoxicated?” Scott asks. His skin is flushed and warm, and they both crowd in close as soon as he sits.

Stiles looks at Derek, who returns the look. “Both?” Stiles asks; Derek nods as they chorus together, “Both.”

Scott has seen Stiles drunk before. Drunk on alcohol, slightly high on other things. He’s listened to Stiles wax poetic about Derek’s eyes, his teeth, his perfect abs. He’s seen Derek wince when Stiles does it, seen Derek whisper things when he thinks no one else is listening.

He’s never been caught in the middle like this.

“I think I like the faerie juice.” Stiles entwines his fingers with Scott’s, leans on his shoulder. “I feel good. You feel good. Derek is always good. Can we just all feel good together? Because that would be awesome.”

“I’m in,” Derek murmurs. “Stiles is right, you’re good. You’re better than me. You’re amazing.”

“Not when you’re _drunk_ ,” Scott protests. “You’re under the influence. You can’t _possibly_ consent to anything right now.”

“I want to go to bed.” Stiles lurches to his feet, tries to drag Scott and Derek with him and lands on his ass when neither of them stand up. “And sleep,” he amends. “No consent issues required. Just sleep. Until we are not drunk and are able to consent.”

“And then we will already be in a bed. Good thinking.” Derek pushes to his feet, far more graceful despite the slight wobble in his stance. “I am the elder and I think this is a good idea. It’s best if we keep all the pretty in one place. And we need sleep.”

Scott sighs. “This is…”

“Perfect,” Stiles says.

In a weird way, _yes_ , it is perfect. Scott wants this, but he can’t have it. Not like this. But sleep, that’s okay, right? And they’ll wake up in a few hours and everything will go back to normal. “Fine, we’ll go sleep.”

Stiles drags him in close, rubs his hand over Scott’s head. “Intoxicated we may be, but we’ll still want you in the morning. I’m just hoping that maybe you want us, Scotty.” He plants a wet kiss on Scott’s cheek. “Faerie juice is awesome, Scott.”

Scott reserves judgment on that until morning, but by the time _later_ rolls around, with accompanying sobriety and further conversations, he has to agree. Faerie juice is awesome, and so is their new arrangement. However it may work out.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Come find me [on tumblr](http://tryslora.tumblr.com)!


End file.
